To Find My Own
by whitewingedalbatross
Summary: The night before the apocalypse, Dean and Cas share a tender moment. Songfic. Destiel. Sexual situations implied if you turn your head and squint.


**A/N: This is just a little Destiel songfic/drabble I threw together instead of working on my final paper for Sociology. I _never _write songfics, but it popped up on my Pandora playlist, and I couldn't let it go. Hope it's okay!**

* * *

><p><strong>{ - }<strong>

_We'll do it all, everything, on our own  
>We don't need anything, or anyone<em>

_If I lay here, if I just lay here,  
>would you lie with me and just forget the world?<em>

_I don't quite know how to say how I feel  
>Those three words are said too much, they're not enough<em>

_If I lay here, if I just lay here  
>would you lie with me and just forget the world?<em>

**{ - }**

Blue.

Dean has never seen such a shade of sapphire represented in human eyes before. Go figure, he thinks.

Lined with dark lashes that don't belong to them, sitting in a face that was once another's…Dean finds that the contrast of pale skin to said blue eyes is mesmerizing. Not that he would ever admit it. No, of course not, because thinking things like that is more of a "Sam" specialty, for sure.

But still.

He scoffs mentally, though the sound is somehow affectionate even inside his own head._ Of course_ his eyes would have to be blue. _Of course_ an angel of the freaking lord would have to have eyes as blue as heaven itself.

"Heaven is not blue, Dean," Castiel suddenly chimes in, and Dean shoots him a half-hearted glare. Had it been a few months prior, he would have given the other man a stern talking-to about personal space and why reading someone else's mind is a violation of those boundaries, with several pointed remarks about why 'sharing feelings is only for girls like Samantha' thrown in for good measure…but times have changed.

He sighs and presses closer to the inexplicably warm body next to him, his fingers absentmindedly drifting over shoulders that are occasionally adorned with wings, and always sensitive.

Castiel squeezes those blue eyes of his shut and tucks his head under Dean's chin, nuzzling his nose against Dean's bare chest with a content sigh of his own.

Tonight…tonight is calm. The first calm night they have had in too long to remember, and Dean gives their drabby hotel room an almost affectionate glance before closing his eyes as well and resting his cheek against Castiel's soft, perpetually tousled hair. Dingy hotel rooms are as much of a home as he has ever known, and tonight, the garish orange tones of the wallpaper seem, for once, more welcoming than off-putting.

"Dean." Cas' voice implores him softly, the Angel's breath tenderly warm against his collarbone. "Go to sleep." His voice is soft and even more rough than usual, and his tone sounds as content as Dean feels.

The hunter knows that there will be little rest for either of them before the morning, but he appreciates the request all the same. Castiel requires no reply; between the two of them, no more words are necessary.

A set of soft toes brushes over his ankle and Dean presses even closer to Castiel's warmth, wrapping his arms securely around his partner in a slightly awkward though well received embrace. This night, this _feeling_, is enough for now.

Perhaps the apocalypse faces them tomorrow, but they will meet it when it comes, and not a moment before.

Perhaps, if they survive the coming morning, a more in-depth look at their current…_situation_…will be necessary. Maybe he will actually voice his feelings on the matter aloud. Maybe he'll punch the bitchface right off of his brother when Sammy catches wind of everything that's transpired tonight. He can only hope for the opportunity.

But tonight, if only for _tonight_, Dean resigns himself to the first bit of comfort he has known in years.

He can almost hear the Angel's voice whispering in his mind, imploring him to _rest_…to _forget_ and _be at peace_.

Yeah, yeah…alright. He'll relax. He'll take a few hours of indulgence in this…_whatever_ this is. He'll put off worrying about anything until the sun starts to shine through the hideously brown curtains again. _There ya go…happy now, Cas?_

He's not sure if the feeling of relief that washes over him a second later is from making his resolution, or if it was sent by the grace of the man in his arms, but…ah, who cares.

He holds Castiel closer, counts the steady beats of the Angel's human heart beneath his large hands and sends a half-hearted prayer of thanks to whomever might be listening. Dean doesn't care, doesn't remember if he ever got an answer.

Yes, Dean thinks as darkness sinks in around his field of vision, forgetting the world for a while sounds perfect, especially if forgetting feels like this.

**{ - }**

_I need your grace to remind me  
><em>_to find my own_

_If I lay here, If I just lay here,  
>would you lie with me and just forget the world?<em>

_Forget what we're told, before we get too old,  
>show me a garden that's bursting into life <em>

_All that I am, all that I ever was,  
>is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see<em>

_I don't know where, confused about how as well  
>Just know that these things will never change for us at all<em>

_If I lay here, if I just lay here,  
>would you lie with me and just forget the world? <em>

**{ - }**


End file.
